The Unwritten Story Of Thar! Poem by Aadil Hingorjo

South Eastern desert(Sindh)conceals our story
Aren't we, the ignored Tharis, parts of this land?
Our land isn't snowy
No one visits us
No one pays any penny to us
Everyone publicizes us for his personal graph
Our peripheries mark the endless silence
Yeah, we are Tharis, the bordered insects
Infinity of desert introduces us
Our expressions are earthly
That's why the gods of time marginalize us
We are doomed to unsung strings
We are empty graves on the land of pure
Settled around the Thar-coal,
We often get to be politicized
We have just been talked of
We have just been discussed about
No Syed, No Thakur, No Major has hugged us
Because we are not like Fata-inhabitants
Courts too just delay our cases
In the fight between Biggers we are censored
Perhaps we are cornered because of
Because of our nonviolent identity
Because we don't take up weapons
Because we don't kill the innocent people
Because we don't broadcast the fake teachings
Because we don't have any Afghani border
Because our neighboring land is Rajasthan
Because we celebrate the humblest sand
Neither province nor state safeguards us
We are the neglected clauses
We perhaps don't lie in constitutional limits
We are limited to our own grief
Only our frozen sadness smiles on us
No rain determines our nature
Do you, O careless God, listen to our prayers?
Heavy roads and carpeted motorways
New developments are coming
Yet our lips remain thirsty for drops of water
This twenty first century is another dark spell
No manifesto captures our voice
Scattered under the naked sky, nights fall
Hungrily we sleep
Mothers here have lost the physical coherence
Their foreheads don't foresee the life
Empty are their breasts
Undone are their hair
We live under the blank clouds of exile
No one advocates our intensity
All lawyers have turned liars
No method meets our monuments
No photographer shows our reality
We are pregnant with untold poses
We are the dried flowers of the Thar desert
Our representatives have deserted us
Injecting threads of beliefs, they've deceived us
We are taught to pray before God
But no messiah has ever blessed us, my lord
In the streams of time, we are but lost travelers
Arab princes hunt the flights of our birds
Our sunrises and sunsets too are endangered
We are footprints of permanent silence
No novelist characterizes our inmost echo
No poet has ever been lyrical to our beats
Our peacocks die on daily basis
Our peahen have lost their dances
And the loss of their dance reveals our loss
We are directed to no land
No kind window opens to our area
Our territory drinks turbulence
We are like ignored underlines
We find none to translate our language
Perhaps our tongues are rooted in ancient time
Under the solemn mist, we breathe emptiness
The contracted us cry over the troubles of time
Ah, the alien avatars laugh over us
Ah, we are the myths of the contemporary era
We unveil the dirty picture of democracy
We boldly whisper to the locked parliaments
We humbly expose the religious rifts
We, the indecent creatures, we embarrass them
Let it again be the forgotten plea
Because we are an uttered promise
Because we are the burnt books
Because we are the blocked rivers
Perhaps we are still the unrecognizable scripts!